


Burning Man

by I_hover_for_fun



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Actually kinda sad, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_hover_for_fun/pseuds/I_hover_for_fun
Summary: Caleb has a nightmare... Oh and he doesn't have a family either (Until he does.)
Kudos: 47





	Burning Man

**Author's Note:**

> I did not mean to write this tonight, but I was in a really awful mood because someone who i am really close to always discourages me and tells me I'm not smart or funny or pretty in a serious manner and I know it's weird to vent on fanfiction but it's like 1:30 A.M. so I don't really care :/  
> Also- my tumblr is @i-hover-for-fun in case you want to send a prompt!

The cart was in front of the doors, holding them in place. Nothing could get in. Nothing could escape. 

The fire started silently, creeping up the side of the small house. It charred and darkened on it’s path up the wooden siding, crackling slightly under the bright moon. The flame grew from an inch in height, then two, then twelve, casting dark shadows across the grassy yard. Across the three figures at the front door.

He knew what he was doing. Punishing traitors of the empire. The dirty scum of the land who just happened to have raised him from birth. It was a sacrifice. But it was their fault.

He was prepared. He knew it. The house was alight and nothing could stop it now, as the smoke billowed from the rooftop and the flames roared through the night sky.

There was no sound but the crackling fire and the heavy breaths of the three children.

Because were they truly almost adults? No, they were not even close.

He moved to turn away. He wanted to get back to the compound. His work was done. It was time to graduate. His future lay ahead.

But he would never reach that.

He halted in his footsteps as the shrill scream pierced through the air, ringing in his ears. And, for a moment, the fog around him lifted and he had no other thoughts than wondering what he was doing.

“Mama,” he muttered under his breath as he sank to his knees in the squelching mud.

“Bren, come,” she took his hand, tried to get him up. But he was broken- he couldn’t- wouldn’t- shouldn’t- move an inch.

The screams were like a chorus as the house blackened in the flames. A symphony of agony and terror echoing in the lonely night.

The smell of burning flesh was not one easily forgotten. The sickly sweet odor that made you gag on it’s thickness. And it’s utter detestable nature.

Tears trailed down his eyes as the noise died down. And- oh- how he wished he could extinguish the flames with the few droplets cascading down his cheeks.

And then, suddenly, the fire was there. In front of him. Eating him up and catching on his expensive purple robes. The crystals in his arms melted under the heat and he could do nothing but stare at the ground through his pain.

This was how it was for his parents.

Their last moments.

He would see them soon, as he burned alive. Waiting.

Please. Ikithon was a bastard. An evil man. And his parents were gone. Dead. Deceased. Gone-

“Caleb?” And there was a kind voice in the darkness. Grounding him as he rubbed the sleep gently from his eyes.

He was not on fire.

There was no house in front of him.

And there were six figures around him.

“What’re ya screamin’ for?” There was Fjord, his hand warm and heavy on Caleb’s shoulder. A quiet reminder that he wasn’t alone anymore. 

“Böser Traum… Bad dream”

“Usually when I get bad dreams and wake everyone with my screams, not that I have ever done that, but if I were to do that, I would just hold nugget until I were calm again, you know?” And Jester, gently plopping Frumpkin down onto his lap. “Though I think Frumpkin will work just fine!”

“Mr. Caleb, I have a very nice tea for situations like this.” And Caduceus Clay with a tea remedy for everything.

And Beauregard’s hand on his knee.

And Yasha behind him, placing a flower behind his ear.

“Let’s get you nice and comfortable again, Cay.” And Nott. Who could even begin to describe Nott’s comfort.

Caleb looked up at the stars through the softly glowing dome of protection. The same stars he saw all those years ago on a night of such great tragedy.  
Maybe, he thought, though his family might be gone. He may have found where he belongs again.

And yeah, he may have a different name and a different identity, but he also had a new family.


End file.
